


Bound to Destiny

by Wolves_of_Innistrad



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Ankle Cuffs, BDSM, Bondage, Collars, Divination, Dom/sub, Fortune Telling, Gods, Kinda?, M/M, Magic, Multiple Orgasms, Punishment, Religion Kink, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Sex with gods, Submission, Supernatural Elements, supernatural sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-21 17:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolves_of_Innistrad/pseuds/Wolves_of_Innistrad
Summary: A shady Fortune Teller out to swindle his clients meets his match when the God of Destiny himself comes for a reading.  What transpires next will change the Fortune Teller's entire world.
Relationships: Fortune Teller/Deity of Fate
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Bound to Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ruis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruis/gifts).



The cool summer breeze ruffled the satiny caress of fabric that hung over head, cool beads of sweat trickled down his brow as a man in colorful garb explained away how all the problems this woman had in the world could be changed simply, easily. If only she took his advice to heart, if only she returned, later, for another reading to make sure she didn’t stray off course. If only she believed in fate’s plan for her.

Giancomo had been doing this for years, ever since he’d seen a traveler perform the same tricks, watched his own father fall prey to the machinations of a charlatan just like him, giving more and more coin to the man’s visions of the future. He’d listened intently to his father’s words, sitting at his knee, learning what cards had meant what, how the man had interpreted them, their positions. IN time he visited many of them, lied to get free advice or spared what little he had to find out more, and never did any suspect he was really only searching for information on how they worked.

A small woman stood up, thanking Giancomo, thanking Gianni as his regular clients called him, for all his hard work in divining her future, in making sure she wasn’t lead astray. As if he was the only thing standing between her and the capricious whims of fate. Her hand was warm in his, sun-kissed and supple as she passed a few coins his way and left in a hurry.

The tent needed to be rearranged, he needed more space to gesture wildly, to make it more vibrant and otherworldly. That’s what people paid for, what they wanted, he was as much an illusionist as a fortune teller, or at least that was how he saw it. His fingers riffled the cards, realigning them as he shuffled, readying for his next client, whoever they might be. He had no idea what Fate had in store for him on this momentous day.

Muffled sounds of footsteps on grass, the rustling of fabric as the opening to the tent was parted and the last rays of sunset drifted in alerted him to a newcomer. Gianni looked up, quickly assessing the man before him. The cascade of light behind him seemed to shroud him in shadows for a moment, face unreadable, body a mere silhouette before finally the partition closed and he seemed to materialize before him.

He was tall, much taller than Gianni who felt himself above most others, not just in mind but body as well. Broad shoulders tapered to a thin waist, the cut of his vest, a purple so deep it spoke of royalty and wine with small golden lines etched everywhere, left little to the imagination. It was the style now, especially in the sweltering summer months, to dress down, but this man seemed far less modest than even his most scandalous of clients. Those shoulders were bared, no tunic beneath the vest, just olive skin that went down, down to the edge of low slung pants. That line of demarcation was blurred by a shock of dark, wispy hair that stuck out in a little tuft and followed a treasure trail up beneath the vest.

The pants were nearly see through, leaving little tot he imagination in their stark whiteness despite how loose they were. The long line of leather boots stretched up to his knees, and by the time Gianni had reached that point of his body he realized he’d yet to see the man’s face and he craned his neck back up only to be met with a sight far more gorgeous than any other.

This client was striking, features at once sharp and predatory, but then shifting to an almost cherubic roundness with the tilt of his head. At once his face spoke of ages past, yet still the brightness of youth, of future still unexplored and potential not yet met shone brightly in his honeyed eyes. A beard, at turns immaculately kept and wild and untamed from different angles drew him down to a mouth that spoke of riddles and ecstasy, a mystery unto itself that he wished deeply to explore.

But that, that was not something he could indulge in just yet. He still had time left in this city, he must be careful of his vices, for now, Gianni knew well enough to engender pleasantness whenever possible, to keep control of his fleeting desires until the time was ripe. And still, he wanted, he yearned for this man after only one look.

It was almost a shame he was going to sunder as many coins from his pockets as he could.

Eyes closed, a breath in, and the scene was set. Gianni let himself focus and begin, giving the same speech he practiced and prepared, words laced with chicanery and mystery, just enough to entice, but not enough to scare any but the most frightful off. A few simple tricks of the cards, shuffles, fans, simple shows of skill that delighted most. Th man smiled at him, but it was a knowing smile, no condescension, but not mirthful awe either.

“I am Gianni, and for a small amount of coin, I can interpret your future. I can pull at the threads of destiny and divine what fate has in store for you. This is a task most arduous, but for you, for you I will give you a special rate, as you seem a man who knows what he wants to ask. Am I right?”

As Gianni spoke the man sat there, smiling that same, sanguine smile. His tongue came out to wet his lips, perfectly pink like a rose petal and probably as soft.

“I only have one question, that is true. In that, at least, you have made an accurate prediction.”

The voice was warm, like the heat from a fire mixed with warm ale. If Gianni was a lesser man he’d even say as intoxicating as the latter, but he simply smiled back, reassured that he’d read him correctly.

“And what, may I ask, is your name?” He fanned the cards out, giving himself time to read the other’s movements, to glean intention to see how best to precede in the reading. What did this man want, what was it he craved and wished to hear, that which would keep him coming back for more.

A smirk lept to the other man’s lips, the cupid’s bow puling back like an arrow nocked and ready to fire. “Don’t you already know, haven’t you read it in the weave of fate?”

So he was one of those, a non-believer. It was no matter, Gianni had converted many men and women before, had fooled even the most devout, the most ardent of skeptics. He’d make short work of this one too.

“I could, but that’s a petty use of powers such as mine, and there’s no coin in it. But if you wish me to divine it, I-” He was cut off by the man raising a hand, strong but holding a softness to it. There was something about it though, the way the lines on his palm seemed to shift even without movement that gave him pause.

“There’s no need for that. I suppose a name isn’t too much to ask. My friends, what few I have, call me Dino.” Just like that Gianni had his in, just enough of a thread to pull on. A quick glance to the cards and he knew which one to pull, he flipped it over and…

“The Wheel of Fortune,” he said, voice hesitating for only a breath before he continued, even though he was surprised, certain he was to draw The Lovers, the card he’d felt would best start the spread for his intended story. No matter, he continued on, explaining the meaning, fitting it to his own ends. Dino sat, lazing in the chair, staring at him with that same smile. When no question arose he felt the cards, drawing another. He turned it over and read it “The Wheel of Fortune.”

It took a moment to sink in, to understand he’d just pulled the same card from the deck. Two Wheels of Fate stared back at him, his eyes cast up at Dino, but there didn’t seem to be a flicker of recognition, nor confusion. He simply sat, waiting to hear his fortune. He’d seen the same cards reappear in multiple spreads, usually when he was trying to emphasize a point, but he did that on his own. But pulling two of the same card at the same time was, frankly, impossible considering the structure of the deck.

Hurriedly he explained the significance as best he could and rushed to pull another card, eager to get this back on track. “And your third card is...” he flipped it over, “The Wheel of Fortune.” His heartbeat quickened in his chest, he stared back at the impassive smile of his client and wondered, for the first time in his life of deceit if this was what it was like to truly see beyond the veil into the unknown.

Without explanation he turned the next card, another Wheel, then a fifth, a Wheel again. Mounting horror dawned upon him, creeping dread looming like a dagger overhead. His eyes cast upwards once more and gone was the passive smile, even the playful smirk, replaced with a piercing gaze. It was only then he noticed how the back of his cards had the same purple and gold pattern as the man’s vest.

“You...” his finger pointed shakily in accusation, rings glinting in the soft light cast by the candles in the tent. “Who are you?” Surely nothing he’d done had ever come out like this, he was no longer in control, and that meant the cause of the disruption must be coming from without. Must be coming from the man across the table.

“Me? You think I am the cause? Tell me, what does it mean when you draw the same card over and over again prophet. Enlighten me with your wisdom.” His voice was different now, lower and higher, a juxtaposition that played tricks on his ears, like a chorus speaking in perfect harmony.

Gianni stood, fear palpable as he backed away from the table. A wind picked up, no longer the calm summer breeze, but the whirling of a gale, the candle flickered once and he only just stopped from shouting as Dino’s eyes shone even in the darkness.

“This is… This is madness. Witchcraft!” He shouted, the chair pushed in front of him, trying to create a barrier however feeble it may be.

Dino stood and the wind grew ever louder, and when he spoke it was like his words were the howl of it. “You are a charlatan. You have dabbled in fate your entire life, but you have never seen the face of it, have you? Never once glimpsed the unthinkable, the inscrutable, the fabric of reality?”

Gianni felt compelled, like words were being drawn forth without his consent, rising up like bile in his throat. “I’m a deceitful man. I trick people into believing in fate, into thinking I can divine the future when I hardly know what I’ll have for breakfast in the morrow.” His hands shot up, covering his mouth, afraid of what more might slip past.

Now the grin returned, Dino stepped to the side and the candle snuffed out, the only light in the tent the gleam of his eyes.

“Who are you…?” Gianni asked, once again in control of his tongue even as his body shook.

A laugh, those eyes watching him in the darkness. “Take a guess, it can’t be any worse than your other attempts.”

Gianni stared, dumbfounded, unable to utter a single word, to draw a conclusion.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Dino spoke once more and his teeth seemed to glint despite no light, his features clear even darkness. With a flick of his hand there was a noise and Gianni turned to watch as the cards, illuminated somehow, as if from within, flipped one by one. Every single card showed the Wheel of Fortune, glowing faintly, purple hues surrounding it and where the gold had been inlaid even brighter.

“Still no answers?” Dino advanced on him and Gianni could not move, could not flee or defend himself, could only watch transfixed as this man closed the distance between them. “Then I’ll tell you. Dino is not my name, not quite. It’s a shortening, rather, of the full name.” he inched closer, so close his breath was like the fire of a furnace against Gianni’s skin, prickling the hairs of his ear as the man whispered “My name is Destino, the lord of Destiny, of Fate. And you my child, are a wayward soul, a practitioner without the gift without sight, stumbling around, even the blind see more of the world than you.”

“Destiny… Destino,” Gianni choked out, his terror was all encompassing, but underneath it, simmering low and almost unthinkable was the pool of heat and fire and lust that he’d had since the moment Destino had walked into his tent. His fear for his life only just overrode his hunger for the other man, growing ever more now that he knew his true name.”

“Say it again...” Destino’s finger ran up Gianni’s throat and tipped his chin up to meet his eyes, those mesmerizing eyes that enthralled him.

“Destino...” This time his voice came out in a whimper, a keening sound stuck in the back of his throat that sounded pathetic, and yet Destino’s smile grew ever wider at it, closed the gap between them.

“Do you wish to see? Do you wish to know? Do you wish to make amends for transgressions, to pay penance for a lifetime of deceit and move forward an honest man?”

Gianni nodded, holding his breath, eyes locked on Destino.

“Then kneel, but first,” before Gianni could react, Destino made another flourish with his wrist, and suddenly the cards began to fly up, one by one into the air until they spun in a gyre. “I have seen your future, I have seen your past, but I have not seen you, here, in the present.” The moment the words stopped, the cards flew towards Gianni, swirling around him in a vortex.

The sound of cuts, of scraps and scratches and knicks and all manner of tearing and shredding confounded his ears, but beyond the blur of ti all, Gianni still could not look away from those yes, those eyes that held multitudes, that spoke of his birth, his death, a past he had not lived and a future he would not see.

He blinked, and when his eyes opened again the cards were gone, sitting in a pile in Destino’s hand. Gianni’s eyes trained down, for the first time breaking contact with the deity and stared, watched the last scraps of cloth flutter to the floor where the rest lay in a heap, saw himself, bared before his god. It was the first time he’d though of how he looked in so long, where before he had seen himself above other men, now he saw himself as below, a mere mortal standing before a god. He had not the bulging arms of the smith he’d seduced some moons ago, nor the hardened body of the knight he’d once lain with, nor even the breathtaking beauty of youth such as the first boy he’d taken to bed. No, he had none of that, but this god still saw something in him, so he did what he knew he must, what he desired to do in his heart.

He knelt and bowed his head in supplication.

“Tell me Gianni, have you merely accepted your fate? Or are you making a choice to pursue it?”

Gianni swallowed thickly as he watched the man swagger closer and slip off his vest, watched in rapt attention as the cards swirled around the man, much more delicate than they’d been with him, making small slits and cuts over and over until the rest of his clothes were no more and the god was equally bare.

Destino’s cock swung like a pendulum between meaty thighs, nestled in a thatch of dark hair that seemed well groomed. Gianni’s mouth watered at the sight of it, not understanding how such fear and awe could also strike him with such need, such desire he knew not of until this day.

“Tell me again Giancomo, are you afraid of what is about to happen? Or are you afraid that you want it? That you crave it, desire it. Are you afraid that a man who has fooled fate all these years will now become a servant of Destiny?” The god was standing above him now, looking down on Gianni with a wicked smile, his cock was mere inches from his lips and his entire body quivered, thrummed with the need to reach out and taste, to let go and accept fate, to choose destiny.

“Yes.” It was the only word he could get out, then, with effort, finally, “please.”

“You have chosen well on this day. Fate is my domain, but that does not mean there is not choice, that there is not free will. But now that you have accepted you destiny, I, Destino, will be your only master, the arbiter of all that is, was and will be in your life.”

“Yes, yes!” Gianni didn’t understand it, why he wanted it so bad. Part of him wondered if the god wasn’t controlling him already, but another part, the weaker, baser part, knew deep in his mind he was just as much a slave to fate as his father before him, he’d toiled for years to play at divination, and now he was met with the divine as his reward, or his punishment. The two no longer seemed that different in the face of Destiny itself.

With a great rush of wind the cards swirled around him, encasing his hands, his feet, around his neck, yet the fear didn’t come, only sweet release. They spun faster and faster until there was no recognizing any one card, just blurs of purple and gold, glowing faintly. His hands were raised up above his head, his legs stretched apart, his entire body went taut as he was bound to his Fate. Candles ignited and began to float in midair, the crystal balls he’d kept on a shelf shattered, their forms coalescing together until a gigantic ornate mirror stood opposite him.

When it was over his wrists and ankles were bound in purple leather, velvet lined cuffs that gripped him like old friends, he saw in the mirror the way he was trussed up, on full display now as Destino watched from behind him. The god’s eyes glowed, devouring him, and he looked to where they were focused. Around his neck the magic still spun, until finally it solidified into the same velvety leather. Gold geometric markings were etched all over each of them, with gold chains attached that held him aloft, even if he could not tell to what the chains where attached in the low candlelight.

“You are mine now, as I am yours. Bound by the strings of fate, woven together.” Destino’s knuckles, clad in many rings of various hues of gold brushed against his cheek and Gianni shivered. The motion traveled down his body, leaving goose flesh in the wake of the god’s fingers. They swept across his nipples, feeling them pebble and harden, before trailing down his stomach, trailing the hair there to its conclusion, taking him in hand and stroking. The mix of the cool metal and warm flesh had Gianni crying out already.

“From now on you will go into the world and do my work, you will prophesy, you will divine, and you will share the gifts I give you tonight with the world at large until your penance is done. But this,” Destino gripped him harder, thumb working at the head of his cock, squeezing him until he felt he might faint, “this is how you will worship me, and in turn I will worship at the temple of your body. In this way we are the same.”

After that Destino disappeared behind him, but Gianni didn’t have to wait long to find his intentions. A tongue lapped at his most sensitive area and he shuddered with the intensity of it. Never had he experienced anything like it, or thought to, but that divine tongue pressed inside him in such a way that if he weren’t bound he’d have already collapsed to his knees in shambles.

The concept of time itself seemed to slip away, it could have been minutes, or hours or days that godly tongue was on him, but when it’s motion ceased he whined, overstimulated and needy, cock weeping. Staring at his reflection he saw a broken man, given in to wanton pleasure and submission.

“You are ready, my vessel,” Destino spoke, that same tongue gliding over the shell of his ear. Then a presence was behind him, pressing against him.

It was gentle at first, slow in taking him, and in time his body submitted just as his mind had. When Destino was fully joined with him, one body, he kissed at Gianni’s jaw, his hands roamed the planes of his body, touching and teasing, lulling his senses into a state of euphoria. Every inch of him sung with energy, with pleasure and power and something else his mind couldn’t grasp. He saw as much as felt his lips split in a grin, eyes nearly rolling back between fluttering lids at the gentle glide of Destino’s cock as it retraced its steps.

Then hands like fire gripped his hips hard, purpling marks already sprouting up beneath each finger before a sharp thrust stole the air from his lungs and the seed from his balls. His cock erupted, painting his chest and the mirror in his release. There was no time to rest before Destino retracted and plunged forward again, and once more the orgasm was ripped from him in startling rapid succession. Thereafter the thrusts picked up speed and power, and the orgasms continued to twine with each one until they bled together, one long, never-ending orgasmic plateau.

Moans, shouts and screams intermingled, a mortal body having no means to express or comprehend the experience of divine sex. Sweat, cum and tears pooled together on his skin, running down each and every ebb and valley or flying off with another punishing drive of divine manhood.

“It is time to receive my gift,” Destino said over the sound of Gianni’s own manic cacophony. His hands covered Gianni’s eyes and there was a glow, each line on his palm alight before Gianni went blind.

Then, flashes of light, speeding past, flickers of futures yet to come, far off places, worlds, people and inventions, war and famine, celebration and success, so many events his mind couldn’t keep track. Then one thing, one singular idea, one moment, spread across thousands, every orgasm he would ever have throughout the rest of his life, experienced all at once. Destiny filled his vessel, filled every pore, every orifice and channel with his magic, with his power, with his essence.

* * *

When Gianni awoke he was cuddled into Destino’s chest, the hair there a velvety soft pillow as warm hands caressed his aching body. He could barely drag his eyes open to stare at his god, he was so tired, his entire body ached, but there was enough lingering pleasure flooding it to stifle the worst of the pain.

“Rest now, you have been given my gift. You have the sight now, you can use it in any way in which you like, personally I quite like this one,” he turned to the mirror and Gianni could see that the semen he’d coated it with had dried in a pattern, a picture that seemed to be how they were laying together right now.

Gianni’s eyes traveled down to his wrist, still covered in the lustrous material he’d been bound with. Without words he turned back to Destino, the god smiling and picking up his wrist to kiss at the cuff. “These are part of my gift, I hope you enjoy them. It shows you belong to me, should any other gods take notice of you.”

There were questions on the tip of his tongue, understanding was within his grasp now but all his body wanted was to rest, to sleep. Soft, gentle finger brushed through his short hair, scratching at his scalp in a soothing pattern that lulled him into a deep and restful slumber.

* * *

Upon awakening the second time he was still sore, but the good kind of sore. Gianni cast his gaze about the tent, but there was no sign of Destino, the mirror was gone, his crystal balls returned, no floating candles or other signs of the god’s visit. Until he looked down at himself, still he was naked, save for the cuffs encircling each of his limbs and he smiled to himself. It had all been real, and now he knew his Destiny, and he had purpose.

**Author's Note:**

> So I didn't even know about these original work prompts until after I signed up and I had planned on doing some treats, but when I saw these I thought I'd take a shot at Original work instead of always just doing fanfic. I hope you enjoy this treat Ruis!


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